The Steel Dragoness
by Silenced Nocturne
Summary: Lucretia is suddenly flung into a new world, and now has to try and struggle her way through everything Albion has to throw at her. Like a devil in a white coat and top-hat. A handsome devil for sure, but still a devil nonetheless. (OC x Reaver, Possible Lemony goodness on the way, WIP, Un-Beta'd so please Review.)
1. A Problem to be Dealt with Later

A slight figure clad completely in black straddled their motorcycle, a sleek machine put together by the rider's very own hands. The rider stretched their arms, drawing attention to the dragon embroidered onto the back of her armored jacket. Beneath the tinted visor, a pair of steel-gray eyes flashed as their owner geared up for the race. The paint job of "The Wyvern" glinted menacingly as it roared to life under its rider's touch; they were ready to blow through this race. This particular rider wasn't in it for the glory, just for the adrenaline, the thrill of moving so fast, even her own thoughts couldn't keep up.

Lucretia bent low over the handle bars, antsy. Around her, other cyclists were doing the same, ready to get this show on the road, literally.

The starting gun sounded, and six illegal motorcycles thundered down the track, all vying for the position of first place. Lucretia was currently neck-and-neck with a well-muscled rider who went by "Dark" on the track, the same way she went by "Dragon". They rounded a tight corner, too tight for Lucretia to handle.

Lucretia's heart was nearly in her throat as she saw a concrete wall suddenly appear before her, and then everything was black.

Lucretia awoke, surprisingly feeling refreshed, although a tad stiff, on a cold stone floor. She picked herself off the ground, and then took a quick inventory of herself. Black , scuffed, boots still on her feet, pitch-colored pants still tucked into said boots, gloved hands still attached to leather-bound arms, which were still connected to her torso, bound chest and all. She cracked her neck, and then lifted her helmet off of her face so she could get a clear view of where she was.

It looked like she was in some sort of wine-cellar, although how the hell she had ended up here was beyond her. Lucretia knew how fast she was going when she rounded that corner, and there was no way in hell that she managed to survive that unscathed. The sparse lanterns flickered on the walls, providing just barely enough light to see by.

"_Am I… Dead?"_ the thought swirled through her mind as she tried to get her bearings. Lucretia held out her helmet in front of her so she could see her reflection on the tinted visor. Same straight nose, same large almond-shaped gray eyes, same bowed mouth, same short-cropped black hair that made her look like a guy, although her bangs alone were down to her cheekbones now, same pink bow-shaped mouth. "**I don't feel dead…"** Lucretia said to herself, as if trying to reaffirm the point.

Experimentally, she kicked a rack that held a countless amount of dusty bottles. Her eyes watered as she stubbed her toe. Yup, she could still feel pain. Lucretia shifted her weight from foot to foot, trying to figure out what to do next. "_Obviously I need to go and find someone_." She thought with some hesitation, somehow she doubted that the owner of this wine cellar would be particularly pleased with a random person suddenly showing up in their basement.

Lucretia poked around until she found a set of wooden stairs heading up, assumedly to another floor. However, before she could climb them, a man with a scarred face and ginger hair opened the door and descended the stairs. He looked at her quizzically, **"I don't rembembah you on the guest list! Whatcha doin' down here?" **

Lucretia simply said "**Where am I exactly? I… I just woke up and I'm not sure how I got here."** She looked hopefully at the man.

He looked her up and down then nodded **"It happens to tha best of us. You're in Mastah Reavah's mansion."** He narrowed his eyes at her once he saw the blank look on her face. **"Millifields, Ring any bells?" **

Lucretia's face simply continued to cloud with confusion the more the man tried to explain their location to her. Why the fuck was she in some rich person's manner? Why did this guy have a British accent? What was with his clothes, they looked like something a you'd see at a steam-punk convention.

Lucretia cleared her throat then said **"Uh…No. I've never heard of any of this."** A sudden idea popped into existence **"Oh, is this a LARPing event or something?"** That would make a bit of sense, some hard-core players refused to break character until the event was over, immersion was quite important for them.

The man looked at her as if she was crazy. **"Tell ya what, I'm gonna take ya down to have a talk with Mastah Revah. He's gonna wanna hear this".** Without another word he grabbed her by the arm and led her up the steps.

What felt like a rock suddenly formed in Lucretia's stomach. Somehow, she knew that this was probably not going to end well.

Top-hat slightly askew, but besides that, impeccable, Reaver was enjoying the company of two very lovely blondes when a maid tapped him on the shoulder. His dark eyes flashed in annoyance, he rested his hand on the butt of the gun strapped to his hip. He didn't care if they were currently in the middle of a party, no one was about to tell of his habit of picking off the staff that displeased him.

"**Master, we have found a young woman dressed as a man, in strange black clothing, poking around in the wine cellar."** Her tone was fearful; Reaver was well known to shoot the messenger when the message was something he didn't like.

Reaver slapped the slightly bustier blonde on the rump, and flashed a dashing grin at both of them **"Come up to my chambers after the party you two,"** He growled seductively **"We'll have a private little party of our own with a few other people once I'm done taking care of this.. Business…"** Smirking he said **"A young woman dressed as a man hm? Maybe they'll join us as well!"** The blondes giggled; utterly delighted in his invitation.

Reaver's expression grew cold all of a sudden, and the blondes fluttered away, perhaps rethinking on accepting that offer. He turned to the maid, who turned white when she saw his expression.

"**Where is she now?"** He snapped, his gun suddenly drawn and aimed at the maid's head, he was not terribly enthusiastic about being interrupted from his conquests, even if it was for something as interesting as a cross-dressing young intruder.

The maid quivered in fear **"With Barry, headed to your office I think." **

Without another word, he holstered his gun and set off to his office. The sooner he could get this over with, the sooner he could get back to those two exquisite blondes.

Lucretia went along with the ginger man, who had just introduced himself as "Barry". Her senses were overwhelmed as he walked her through party, clothes of near impossible hues hung on the party-goers, the sharp smell of alcohol, sweat, and sin hung in the air, it was quite a bit. Almost like a Victorian themed rave of some sort. But they were soon away from the crowd and walking quickly down an magnificent hallway. He ushered her through a large wooden door, and into a richly decorated office. It was all red, gold, and dark wood. No expense was spared.

Lucretia was gaping at the large portrait of a handsome man when the now-familiar pressure of Barry's fingers left her arm. She turned to see what was going on when her heart stopped. Now talking hurriedly to Barry, was the most stunning specimen of a man she had ever seen. He was tall, well built, and had a face that could make a girl swoon. Although the white coat he wore with heavy black fur seemed over-the-top, and his hat was simply outrageous, it somehow suited him perfectly. The portrait hanging on the wall couldn't capture the man's natural charisma; he simply had a presence that demanded attention.

Barry had quickly brought Reaver up to speed about this intruder, like her odd questions, and how it was impossible that she had gotten into the wine cellar without essentially teleporting.

The handsome man smiled at Lucretia, she simply stared back, her mind frozen. Somewhere in her thoughts of _"Ohmygodheissofreakinghot_" Lucretia made the connection between him and the portrait. This was Reaver, the owner of the mansion.

Reaver chuckled at her reaction to meeting him in the flesh; it wasn't particularly often that this happened, though it did from time to time. It was a bit cute to see her dazzled by his glory.

Reaver said with a lupine **smile "So, tell me dear, where did you come from?"**

Lucretia shook herself out of the daze he had put her into**. "Oh, Washington D.C."**

Reaver's face suddenly contorted into a barely reigned-in expression of irritation, in a few short steps he was suddenly towering over Lucretia. Cute or not, no one messed around with him. A gloved hand grabbed Lucretia's chin to force her to look Reaver in the eye **"What did you just say girl?" **He was going to get the truth out of her, one way or another.

Lucretia was taken aback in the Reaver's sudden shift of demeanor, but her face didn't show it. Racing had given her nerves of steel, and intimidation was something other riders did in attempts to distract her and screw with her head.

"**D.C. District of Columbia, just north of Virginia, just south of Maryland, United States of America… It's On the Potomac river…" **Lucretia tried to get a reading off of Reaver's face, and came up empty handed. The stone that formed in her stomach earlier sunk to a new depth, the distinct feeling that she wasn't going to be able to get home tonight began to settle around her.

His eyes scoured hers, trying to locate any sign that she might be lying. Out of nowhere, he pressed his lips firmly onto hers. Lucretia's body stiffened, she instinctively dropped her helmet, which had been tucked under her arm, and shoved with all of her strength against him. Once the pervert was a safe distance away, she grimaced, clearly disgusted. Trying to keep herself from retching, she scrubbed her face with the back of her glove, trying to wipe away the taste of expensive wine that had come with his mouth.

Reaver stumbled back about two steps when the curious little creature shoved him; she was much stronger than she looked. _"__Interesting_"he thought. It was a shame she rejected his kiss though, it would have made getting real answers a much easier task. He eyed her, contemplating his next move. Without a hint of qualm, he raised his cane and struck her on the side of the head, effectively knocking her out.

Lucretia didn't even see him raise his hand before she was on the ground, out cold. Reaver pressed a foot against her side, testing to see if she was actually out, or if simply faking. Convinced that his blow had indeed done the trick he turned away from the strange girl and said firmly to Barry **"Get her cleaned up and dressed in something easy to remove. Search her clothes for anything useful, and…"** He raised a single eyebrow **"Don't harm her anymore unless necessary, I want coherent answers."** Reaver thought for a moment **"Put her in one of the cages, the ones in my second bedroom of course. Now, I have some important matters to attend to, Tatty bye!"** Reaver strutted off to return to the warm company of the blondes and a few others; he could deal with this problem in the morning.


	2. Pulled a Kagome

Barry waited nervously outside the door to Reaver's "Main" bedroom. Any moment now he was going to hear a gun-shot, and then a group of partially-dressed attractive people were going to rush out.

Then came the part he was dreading, explaining what they had found out about the girl, or rather what they hadn't. Barry himself had gone back into the wine cellar to sniff out her trail, it was impossible. Her scent led him to a spot amidst the racks of wine, and then it stopped. There was no sign that she had tunneled into the cellar, nor was there any that she had managed to somehow drop in from the floor above. It was simply impossible, but it was true.

There was also the manner of her injuries.

According to the maids who had bathed her, the girl had been mass of bruises from the neck down. Her even pale skin-tone suddenly shifting to a mottled pattern of green, yellow, and purple marks, it had given the maids quite a shock. The bruises reportedly ranged to ones the size of dinner plates (located on her torso, shoulders and back) to those the size of peas. There was neither rhyme nor reason to their placement, they simply were. One of the maids had felt enough pity to fetch a healing potion to administer to the unconscious girl, so sadly they could not be studied.

A search of her clothing had turned up a few more answers. She had been carrying currency made of paper and non-precious metals, all with the term "United States of America" somewhere on them. Clearly, she wasn't lying when she said she was from there. A card made of a stiff, yet bendable material, had carried a picture of her, as well as a few facts about her, such as her name (Nuygen, Lucretia) her height (5'4) her weight (135 lbs, surprising for one so slender), and noted that she was licensed to drive motor vehicles including "Cars" and "Motorcycles", and also a few more numbers that didn't quite make sense.

There was also a set of keys, strangely made, on a key-ring with a heavy metal charm of a serpentine figure with fore-legs and wings. The same symbol had appeared on the back of her jacket; Barry had drawn the conclusion that it must have been a family crest of some sort, maybe a personal symbol. The embroidery on the jacket had been unusually precise, though that wasn't particularly note-worthy.

Her clothing themselves was rather curious too, her jacket, pants, and even gloves had been re-enforced somehow. Like armor, almost, though the girl had nary a weapon on her. Her boots were unremarkable, though the soles were made with an unidentifiable, slightly supple material, and the bottoms had a strange pattern cut into them. Why would someone nick the sides of their soles so deeply? She had been wearing a short cotton shirt, dyed completely black, and under it wore a slightly stretchy sleeveless garment that had served as a corset of sorts, the maids had a devil of a time trying to remove it without damaging it.

It all made him wonder what kind of life she had led up until now.

Barry sighed as the familiar sound of a Dragonstomper .48 being fired into the air, and Reaver's voice wafted through the wall. **"Now then, Last night was just lovely, but you're all risking abusing my generous hospitality! I'll give you to the count of ten to vacate my property… One…Two…" **As Barry predicted, a group of Reaver's bedmates in various states of undress rushed out as if the devil himself was after them… Which probably wasn't terribly far off, now that Barry was thinking about it.

Reaver emerged from his room slightly tousled and wearing nothing but a deep red robe, and still carrying his gun.

"**Ah. Good Morning Barry. Nothing like a spot of fun before breakfast eh? They're just a tad challenging to hit when they're running for their lives, miserable creatures… Ten!"** To prove his point, he shot at a man struggling to pull up his pants as he ran down the hall. The unfortunate man shortly fell over dead. **"Get that cleaned up would you Barry? As much as I love the smell of blood, flies are disgusting creatures that I don't wish to encounter." **

Barry nodded and then followed his Master down the hall, on the way to his breakfast. **"Yes, right away, Mastah Revah. Um… That girl last night, you remember her?"** Reaver stopped dead in his racks and looked at Barry over his shoulder.

"**The one who was dressed as a man? Yes. Pretty face, though her chest was sorely lacking. Did you find anything?" **Barry nodded, hoping that he wasn't going to be shot at for the amount of uncertainties that had come up in his investigation of sorts.

"**Yes, although it's all a tad strange. Would you care to hear about it over breakfast Mastah? **Reaver sauntered down the hallway with Barry tagging along

"**Yes, I would indeed. So what have you found?" **

Lucretia had slowly awoken curled up and completely engulfed in a large, soft, blanket. Though she didn't recognize the smell of whatever brand of soap had been used to wash it. Ah, all that strangeness last night with crashing into a wall, meeting a pervert in white, it had all just been a very strange dream. Any moment now she'd open her eyes and find out that she had crashed at another rider's flat after the race. She must have lost. Dark was going to never let her live that down.

Not bothering to open her eyes, she attempted to stretch out her legs, but was surprised to find that there was something hard there preventing that. Lucretia rubbed her eyes and sat up, only to find that she was in a small iron cage.

Oh shit, this wasn't a dream was it?

Lucretia frowned as she looked at what she was wearing, a simply cap-sleeved nightgown made of something only semi-opaque, and _pink_. The cut of the dress was flattering as far as she could tell, assuming that she wanted to look feminine. The rounded neckline exposed her collar bones, and managed to slightly magnify her modest B-cups. Lucretia had nothing against the color, but really, she had spent so much time trying to fight the colors that came assigned to her gender. Pink represented all things sweet and fluffy, and not her. She'd take smooth leather and the cold touch of steel any day over a plush animal or a piece of ruffled velvet. Finding it to be chilly in just that sheer garment, Lucretia wrapped the dark wine-colored blanket around herself leaving only her head unexposed.

Her bright gray eyes took in the room she was in. A large red bed dominated the lush room, clearly the main focus; there were also other cages, chains as well, around the walls. They were all empty though, although she could swear she saw a white feather or two in one of the ones on the other side of the room. Oh how fabulous, it looked like the perverted owner of this place had a thing for bondage and other suck kinky activities. Lucretia wondered if he was a nymphomaniac, which would certainly explain his sudden kiss yesterday. Her brain had locked up before she could register any signs of pleasure, thankfully. Stockholm syndrome was not something she wished to develop. The man was drop-dead gorgeous, but still. Common sense dictated she treated everyone with a good dose of caution until she knew what was going on more.

A sudden chill ran through her, Reaver wouldn't try anything else with her would he? Lucretia was by no means a horrible fighter, but the man had a good twenty pounds on her at least. She remembered the grip he had managed to clench her jaw with, he was strong without a doubt. This was all quite worrying indeed…

Lucretia bit the inside of her cheek in thought, this was either the weirdest, most immersive dream ever, or the impossible had happened… And she had pulled a Kagome and ended up in another world. Before she could really get to thinking on the subject, her current captor of sorts waltzed in through the doors, wearing an identical outfit as yesterday, cane in hand and gun strapped to his side. He looked immaculate, hair perfectly styled with care, face painted with a layer of makeup, Reaver certainly knew how to work a steam-punkish outfit.

Reaver had heard every scrap of information that his staff had been able to glean from his little intruder's unconscious body and clothing. This was simply becoming stranger and stranger, and he wanted answers. Hopefully he wouldn't lose his temper and kill her before he got them; life was so dreadfully boring without the occasional mystery.

Reaver shot his trademarked roguish grin in her direction once he saw that his captive was awake, and watching him with a healthy amount of suspicion. Lucretia trusted the man about as far as she could throw him right now, a particularly smart move on her part seeing as she probably couldn't even lift him off the ground.

"**Well rise and shine, I must apologize for assuming you were lying yesterday."** Reaver's smile only grew wider when he said **"So how about I make it up to you and let you out of that cage hm? Unless you'd rather have me join you in there~"** He had decided that the best was to get the information he so desired was to treat her with a bit of courtesy, perhaps she would open up.

If not there were other, more painful, but more fun, methods he could use.

Lucretia narrowed her almond-shaped eyes at him as he strutted over and unlocked the cage, offering a gloved hand to help her out. Lucretia batted it away and climbed out un-assisted, leaving the blanket behind in the cage. Reaver let it slide, no point in getting worked up over something like this, and he was too focused on getting answers right now anyways.

"**Just please keep your hands off of me." **Lucretia crossed her arms over her chest, she wasn't about to let him get a peek at her anything.

After a beat of silence during which Reaver did his best to examine her as thoroughly as possible with his eyes, he cleared his throat and said coolly **"So how did you manage to find yourself in my wine cellar Miss Ni… Ny-u-gen? Is that how it's pronounced? What ethnicity is that?" **He was quite happy to find that although her build was rather slender; her breasts were indeed larger than they had appeared last night. They were still a tad too small for his taste, but they were well shaped as far as he could tell, and that's all that truly counted.

Lucretia's eyes narrowed even further as she noticed Reaver's roving eyes, the man didn't even bother to try and disguising the fact that he was checking her out. **"It's pronounced 'When', my grandfather was Vietnamese, and I'd like to know as much as you do."** A small sigh escaped her bowed lips, and her expression softened slightly **"I was racing last night, the last thing I remember is almost slamming into a wall at top-speed, and then I woke up here."** She quietly wrapped herself up in her thoughts, still trying to understand what exactly had happened.

Reaver rubbed his chin in thought, he had never heard of any group calling themselves "Vietnamese" although it certainly sounded oriental. It would explain the shape of a few of her facial features like those almond shaped eyes, bowed mouth, and slightly angled cheek bones, not to mention her stature, build and the color of her hair. He was troubled by the fact that she couldn't remember how she had gotten here. Lucretia wasn't intoxicated at all when Barry had found her, so a drunken black-out seemed unlikely, he had a nagging feeling that a third party was somehow involved in this.

"**Well, well, well then. This is certainly getting stranger by the moment. Tell me, does the word 'Albion' mean anything to you?" **His dark eyes bored into Lucretia's pale ones, Reaver was going to get to the bottom of this no matter what.

"**Well no… Should it?"** Lucretia said hesitatingly, like this was a question on a test that she was supposed to know the answer to, but had no idea what was going on anyway.

Reaver frowned **"It's the country you're currently in."** he stated bluntly. This girl was clearly from another land, perhaps an un-contacted one, (though it seemed unlikely seeing as how she spoke English with only an accent) although how she turned up in his wine cellar was still a complete mystery. A soft chiming sound emanated from his pocket, Reaver pulled out a heavy gold pocket watched an examined the time. "_Hm. I ought to keep to my schedule, odd girl or not." _thought Reaver

Reaver circled her, eyeing her the way a buyer eyes a prized cattle they were considering purchasing. **"I'll tell you what Miss… "When"… You can get dressed, I'll provide something suitable of course, spend the day as you like and then we'll continue this talk this evening after I'm done quelling another strike." **Reaver thought for a moment, for a brief second considering locking her back up into a cage, but that probably wouldn't help with her continued cooperation.** "You can spend your time in the library, or whatever, as long as you don't keep my staff from their duties, leave, or break anything, you should be fine." **Reaver turned to Barry, now completely ignoring Lucretia's presence. **"Keep an eye on her, don't hesitate to use force to keep her in line, although try not to do any lasting damage."** Twirling his cane in his hand he left with an annoyingly chipper **"Tatty Bye!"**

Lucretia was utterly confused by the time Reaver had left, the theory that she had somehow slipped into another world was gaining credence. At least Reaver seemed half-way decent now, although still rather lecherous. Lucretia knew that she was going to be (mostly) fine as long as she held his curiosity. A sense of dread began to creep up on her; right now she was utterly reliant on a perverted man if she was indeed in another world. The only thing she could truly do right now is play along and answer his questions. Hopefully she'd figure out a way home soon, the sooner she could be away from this strangeness, the better.

**Author's note**:-

What ? An update the next day? Crazy right? I feel particularly inspired for some reason, it's strange.

But please, please, please tell me what you think of this. I'm trying to stay as faithful to the characters as I can, and if anyone has tips on writing Barry's dialogue, I'll love you to the moon and back!

For those of you who asked, this takes place after the masquerade, but before the actual revolution in Fable 3. I hope that clears up some of the confusion.

:3 Best of luck to you all!


	3. Five gold a sheet!

Lucretia stood with her legs shoulder-length apart, arms crossed over her chest, a level glare focused on her adversary. The maid held a tortuous looking device in her hands, all lace, silk, and whale-bone boning. In short, one of the most girlish corsets she had ever seen, much less been asked to wear** "Miss Wen please, Master Reaver specifically asked for us to make you to look your best!"**

Lucretia raised an eyebrow at the Maid and said dryly **"Well personally I think I look my best when in pants. I can pull of a suit too."** The maid made a tsking noise with her mouth, clearly stuck on how she was going to wrangle this weird young woman into the fashion of today. Lutheil turned her head slightly to the side, finally settling on a compromise rather than remain in a dead-lock. **"I'll tell you what; I will put on a corset, not that one something more… Utilitarian, no ruffles, minimal lace if possible. But I want pants, trousers, anything but a skirt."** Even if she had no idea where her bike was, she knew for a fact that a skirt was just going to get in the way no matter what she did.

The maid weighed her options, finally deciding to give in. After all, it was really only Lucretia risking Reaver's temper. The maid shrugged and held out a deep navy blue bustier with a bit of floral embroidery etched into it in cream, with black ribbons for lacing. Lucretia accepted it, and was soon being laced into it. Thank goodness she got to wear a white, poofy, shirt under it; otherwise she might not have been able to even think about separating her skin from the fabric later. The maid had told her that the shirt was technically a man's; Lucretia had responded that she didn't care.

After the trial of being laced into the corset, Lucretia stepped into a pair of dark brown breeches. They were snug, but not too tight, exactly the way she normally wore pants. It was comforting having both legs enclosed in fabric again, Lucretia was not a fan of the breeze that skirts sometimes had. A pair of black Victorian boots (thankfully, with a relatively low heel) that just went over-the-knee finished the outfit. The heels made a sharp clacking sound as she stepped into the hallway, where Barry was waiting for her.

Now that she was fully awake, her curiosity about this new world (and its inhabitants) had been fully sparked. The smallest details seemed to jump out at her, like the fact that Barry's eyes were two different colors. One blue, the other brown, both widened when he saw her outfit.

"**Erm… What are you wearing?" **Everything but the loose sleeves and shoulders of the white blouse was form-fitting. Even if there wasn't any skin revealed except for her neck, face, and hands, the outfit was without a doubt hot. While Lucretia was not particularly buxom, she refused to attempt to disguise the fact with the ruffles that had been nearly forced on her. Svelte and simple was more her style, and it suited her perfectly. Reaver was without a doubt going to be amused in the least by the undisguised shape of her body.

"**Clothing that suits me."** Lucretia replied shortly tapping her toe on the floor, impatient to get to the library. As Barry led her to the book-filled chamber he was bombarded with questions about life in Albion, how the currency system worked, who was in power, the size of cities, the questions didn't stop once they got to the library either. Barry did his best to explain to her everything, and pointed her in the directions of a few books that may answer some of her more unusual ones, like what kind of looms were being used in factories, and if they had refined oil into gasoline.

She was certainly a strange creature indeed.

After interrogating Barry about everything she could think of, she came to the conclusion that this society was in the beginning of the industrial revolution. Not the best place to be, but one certainly ripe with opportunity for her.

Lucretia wandered through the stacks of books, thinking about how she could make a new life for herself here. She had always been good with her hands, and with machines, perfect for an age such as this. Not two months ago, she had received her Bachelor's degree in mechanical engineering, and given that Reaver was supposedly an industrial giant, things could be quite profitable for them both.

Her heels clicked against the floor as she made her way to a massive red leather wing-backed chair near a fireplace. Reaver certainly seemed fond of the color and of gold as well. Not to mention himself, there were dozens of portraits of him on the walls, none quite the same, but all certainly captivating. She settled into the c air, crossing her legs as she contemplated her next move.

If what Barry had said was true (and right now it appeared so) then somewhere beyond his perverted exterior, Reaver without a doubt had a ruthless, business minded side that she could exploit. While she was stuck in the world, Lucretia could certainly play nice enough with Reaver to ensure she didn't end up on the streets here (which according to Barry were particularly foul).

This was also a chance to seriously leave her mark somewhere, to launch a country a good fifty years into the future technology-wise. Soon, a plan began to form behind her sharp gray eyes. Lucretia stood up, and went to find Barry. He had been hovering close by, quietly directing another servant to a "mess" of some sort Reaver had left outside his bedroom.

Quietly Lucretia asked **"Is there some paper I could use? Pencils to and any drafting tools would be wonderful. "** She blinked her eyes at Barry, who nodded hesitatingly then sent for the items.

Five hours later Reaver dashed into the library, still looking immaculate, but infuriated as well. He tapped his black cane impatiently on the floor**. "Barry! Am I to understand that you gave Miss Wen over thirty sheets of my best drafting paper? I hope you realize that the price of those papers is going to come straight out of your wages!" **

A quiet voice floated from the other side of the library **"It's not his fault, and think of it as an investment Reaver."** A pair of heels clacked quietly as a delicate figure emerged from the rows of shelving. His strange guest walked towards him, a large stack of papers in hand. He drank in the sight of her slim figure stroll up to him, those weren't the clothes he asked the maid to dress her in, but he couldn't find it in his heart to be angry when it resulted in a sight like this.

Lucretia rolled her eyes when she saw his yet again rove over her body. Reaver was too busy undressing her with his eyes to notice. Then he remembered his ire and placed a gloved hand on his hip. Reaver snarled **"Explain yourself. That paper does not come cheap, and whatever money you carried with you is not going to cover it. Five pieces of gold a sheet. Five. This better be good." **To his surprise, a small smile crossed her lips, the first he had seen from her.

"**Oh. It is. You've got a giant dining table somewhere right? I'll set up in there and then explain how you're going to corner the textile industry even further, rugs too if you wish."** Without another word, she quietly exited the library, seemingly smug in her statement. Reaver was for once in his life, completely stunned. That was not the explanation he had anticipated. What in the name of Avo was going on? His dark eyes rested on Barry, who had just materialized from the shelves.

Exasperated Reaver narrowed his eyes at his Butler **"What is going on?" **Barry screwed up his face as he tried to explain the events of the last several hours.

"**She asked for some paper, and drafting tools, I thought she just wanted to doodle a bit, not draw some of the strangest blueprints I've ever seen. She said it was for a loom. A new one. Said that you'd be quite pleased with it once it was built and threaded." **Reaver frowned at him; this girl was a strange one indeed. Well, there was only one way to truly find out what was going on, and that was to talk to the slender mystery herself.

Lucretia carefully spread out her papers on the dark polished surface of the table in the dining room. Arranging them to be viewed from the head of the table, Reaver's vantage point. She had rolled up her sleeves hours ago, so she wouldn't smudge her precise drawings. She leaned over the table, checking her work. For one last time, her pale gray eyes flickered over all of the notes, drawings, and directions, making sure that she hadn't forgotten anything. A large hand suddenly smoothed itself over her rear, and naturally, she stiffened.

Reaver's dark voice chuckled **"Now, now. Nothing to be ashamed of. It's rather cute." **Lucretia turned around to affix him with a glare, she didn't care if it was a compliment; this was disgusting. For a brief moment, she considered slapping him across the face as hard as she could. Or perhaps cursing him to hell and back, but both were acts of anger that could result in her locked into a cage. And she might not be let out this time.

Lucretia settled for a clipped **"Hands off.",** and then gestured to the papers**. "This is what is called a Jacquard loom back home. If you'll direct your attention away from my body and to this particular paper, I'll start explaining." **

Thirty minutes later, Reaver was more mystified than ever. The design was similar to the ones his factories already used, but the innovations would allow for his workers to program the patterns beforehand. No longer would the production of highly intricate patterns have to be by hand, it would all be by machine, and it would all be exact. Admittedly this would require a sizable investment to build, let alone train workers to operate it, but he was staring at one of the most ingenious inventions he had seen in the face. He could practically smell the gold already. But nothing this good came for free, he of all people knew that there was a price for everything, particularly something as potentially ludicrous as this.

"**So, this is all dandy, but what do you gain from this?"** Reaver was starting to gain a semblance of respect for this girl, she certainly had the technical skills to be very useful indeed, and now the question was what her angle on all of this was. Somehow he doubted she was doing this out of the kindness of her heart.

Lucretia grinned at his question; it was the one she had been waiting for. "**I'm expecting fifteen percent of the profits it creates once it pays off the initial investment. And, I was also hoping to work for you, under contract, as an inventor and engineer. I trust that this was a good enough demonstration of my skills?"** She pushed a stray piece of hair out of her face, waiting to see if he would bite. Try as he might, Reaver couldn't disguise the glint of greed gleaming in his eyes.

He looked her over one last time, then pointed his gun at her head, as he cocked the trigger he asked smoothly **"And why should I give you anything? All the plans are there, I could… Cut out the middleman as they say and keep all of the profits."** This was more of a test, if she didn't answer correctly, then she wasn't anywhere near clever enough to keep up with the game she was trying to play.

Lucretia took a deep breath and stated without the slightest tremor in her voice,** "For starters, at the angle we're at, those plans would be hopelessly splattered with brain matter, blood, ect… And with me gone, who knows how long it will be for someone to pen the same system, let alone offer you a chance at it." **Lucretia absentmindedly twirled a pencil while she continued. "**Also, this is just a start. Give me enough of the right resources; and I can probably double your already outrageous profits." **She paused for effect, then hardened her voice, if he wanted to be an asshat, then she'd be a bitch.** "Don't be a fool and think only short-termed Reaver. I'm offering you a chance to be manufacturing, at least until anti-trust legislation starts up, and by then you'll be so wealthy I don't think you'll really care." **Lucretia held out a hand.** "So, what do you say, deal, or no deal?" **

Reaver broke out laughing once her little speech was done, **"Well said!"** Oh she was an interesting one indeed; it certainly looked like she could play the game indeed. If she could keep this up, he just might consider actually respecting her. He holstered his gun, highly amused. "You've got yourself a deal Miss Wen!" His tone shifted slightly, to be a tad more serious **"I just hope you can keep your promises."** Then his face split into a dazzling grin. Smiling like an excited child, he took her hand and pumped it up and down enthusiastically, the prospect of gold of the magnitude she was offering was hard to not be excited about.

When he smiled at her like that, Lucretia felt something in her chest squeeze ever so slightly. J"ust this accursed corset… " she thought, then decided to stop lying to herself. Reaver was attractive, no matter how you sliced it. "_Oh who am I kidding, the man is built like a sex god."_ And now they were semi-offically in business together. She allowed for her hand to be rigorously shaken, sealing the deal. Smiling slightly now, though her tone remained business-like **"I'll anticipate an official contract in a few days then, yes?" **Curiously, her cheeks started to pinken. Whether it was from happiness and excitement, or maybe from another factor

Reaver's smile shifted slightly, a different sort of hunger bloomed in his dark eyes "**Yes… You'll get it indeed."** Using his grip on her hand, he slowly drew her closer, until they were separated by only a few small inches. He lowered his voice to a sensuous purr **"I think a milestone such as this deserves a celebration of some sort hm?" **

Lucretia stared into his eyes, now ensnared in his charms. For once, his touch didn't cause her to stiffen. For once she didn't really mind that he was a first-class creeper, right now she was like any other young woman in the hands of a Casanova. **"I suppose… What were you planning?"**

Reaver simply smiled, then bent down to kiss her once. Just a simple, chaste kiss, nothing more than a hint at what was to come. He smirked when he felt her reciprocate, it looked like she wasn't impervious to his charms, nor was she attempting to deflect his advances. He released her hand and snaked it around her waist, closing the gap between them. Lucretia was a good foot shorter than him, not that he minded, it would make a few things he had in mind easier actually.

He kept his head and neck slightly bent, waiting for the opportune moment to strike again. **"A small, private party, just the two of us." **Reaver ran his hand up her spine, causing a small trill of anticipation to build up in Lucretia. She surprised even herself when she lifted herself onto her tip-toes to place a soft kiss on his mouth.

"**Sounds fun." **She was probably going to regret this tomorrow, but right now, she didn't care. Lucretia was caught up in the moment, ensnared in Reaver's smile.

**Author's note:**

Aw snap! Reaver strikes again! He's like the king of pheromones (Lol)

A warning, the next chapter will be a lemon! My very first attempt at one as well. Exciting right? Haha, pun.

But, because I am aware that a few of you may not want to read it (which is totes fine), I'm going to try to make that particular scene unnecessary to the flow story. Just wait for the chapter after that one guys!

Fun fact: I considered having Reaver say **"A small private party, just the two of us. Unless you'd like Barry to join in as well, I think he'd go for that.**" But realized if I wanted to Reaver to land Lucretia, he'd have to not suggest a threesome.

Please, please, please review. Tell me your thoughts, your likes and dislikes, how much you love/hate Reaver, how much you love/hate me for giving up trying to write Barry's adorable speech impediment. (It is just a pain in the ass to try and spell out. So I'm done!)

I love you all dearly, until next time!


	4. The Sweet Scent of Lemon

Reaver smiled a predator's smile when he heard (and felt) her response. "Fun" wasn't quite the word he had in mind. "Rigorous" "Pleasurable" and the term "Highly gratifying" came to mind however. Although, "fun" was indeed another way to describe it.

Honestly, he was getting worried that something was wrong with him; very few people ever resisted him completely. But now he was going to escort his newest employee back to his bedroom for a night of shenanigans. This was turning out to be a very good day indeed, getting rid of a few pesky strikers, a wonderful business opportunity thrust into his hands, and now he was going to end his day in bed with an attractive young lady.

His arm still around Lucretia's waist, he guided her out of the dining room. Somewhere along the way, it occurred to him that he had no idea how old Lucretia was. Her behavior coupled with her body made it difficult to pin-point, really she could be anywhere from seventeen to almost thirty. Not that it truly mattered, although he was curious about the subject now. That was a discussion that could take place after he was finished bedding her, if it happened at all. There was a task at hand right now after all, and Avo be damned if he didn't focus entirely on those particular actions completely as always. His thoughts now dedicated to making this little encounter of theirs the best for him possible.

Every subtle shift, every almost-caress, sent shivers running over her skin. She wanted more, so much more. Her face was growing steadily pinker, and Reaver took notice. Chuckling darkly he walked her into bedroom.

"_Sadly, I don't think she's quite ready for an experience in the playroom"_ Reaver thought as a brief mental image of Lucretia chained to his bed flashed through his mind's eye. It was a pleasant image indeed, actually it was quite arousing. He would have to make that fantasy a reality at some point. Reaver stole a glance at Lucretia's blushing face._ "But there is always next time."_ Assuming there was a next time anyway.

Well it was time to get this started. Reaver hooked a gloved finger into Lucretia's waistband, and pulled her in for another kiss, this one noticeably less innocent.

Lucretia made a small moaning sound in the back of her throat when Reaver kissed her again, he pressed his lips insistently on hers before nipping her lower lip. The sudden pain caused her to gasp, and before she could process what was happening, Lucretia was completely in Reaver's arms; being kissed like there was no tomorrow. Her hands went to his hair, gripping the soft dark locks as if her life depended on it. She accepted his kiss hungrily, easily returning the amount of passion Reaver was currently displaying.

Somehow, his hat and coat were shed, both tossed onto a chair. Reaver's mouth didn't leave hers until he let her up for air; with a smirk he murmured **"Something tells me that this isn't your first time." **

Slightly breathless, Lucretia purred back** "And?" **

Her response admittedly made him genuinely smile. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. **"Just another surprise, Mon petite fleur."** His gloves and gun joined the jacket and top hat, his now bare hands traveling to her back to begin the process of unlacing her corset. Her delicate hands in turn tugged at the fastenings keeping his vest together, then to his cravat.

A small pile of clothing was soon deposited on the floor, as soon as Lucretia was de-corseted (and she had in turn ensured that he was shirtless) Reaver backed her up against the bed. He firmly gripped her pert ass then lifted her slightly so when he moved in to kiss her neck she would be sitting on his bed. Lucretia felt like she was burning, and that Reaver was the source of the flame. His hands slipped under her shirt, carefully removing it, then moved in to begin teasing his latest bedmate as much as possible.

Lucretia's thoughts began to scatter even further when she felt his searing lips on the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder. It took what little self-control she had left to not moan like an idiot. Reaver certainly knew his way around the human body; places on her back she would have never thought were sensitive suddenly were causing her to tremble when brushed against by Reaver's expert hands. His mouth began to trace a trail of kisses, now with a few small bites thrown in for good measure, down her collar bone. And then he withdrew his mouth and trailed his hands down, past her stomach, to her outer thighs, then… to her boots.

Lucretia looked at him pleadingly as he took his sweet time unlacing her boots and slipping them off, dark humor in his eyes the entire time. **"Why the sad eyes Cherie?"**

Lucretia didn't respond, at least not with words, she just bit her lip. When Reaver in turn kicked off his own boots and joined her on his bed beside her, she began to exact "revenge" by first giving him a bit a taste of his own medicine. Casually, she pushed him down onto his back, and then straddled his waist. Reaver raised his perfectly sculpted eyebrows (as if he would ever let them be anything less than so), but besides that let her continue.

Lucretia kissed the hollow of his throat, then opened her mouth slightly trace a path down his chest with the tip of her tongue. She took her time, occasionally interjecting a small nip. Once she reached the center of Reaver's sculpted chest, her hands took the place of her mouth, nails slightly scratching his skin while Lucretia made her way further and further south. Her mouth now focused on trying to find the spot on his upper chest/neck that would cause him to moan the loudest. By the time she had reached his belt, Lucretia could hear Reaver's breathing begin to pick up the pace. He hissed her fingers brushed ever so slightly on the hardened bump below, then… She stopped. Lucretia straightened herself, yawned exaggeratedly, stretching out her arms above her head. She snickered when she saw Reaver's face of disappointment. With a grin and a snicker she leaned in and whispered gently into his ear. **"Why the eyes?"**

Reaver grabbed her by the shoulders and suddenly rolled them both over, effectively pinning her under him. He stared down at her in a mixture of annoyance, amusement, and lust, stealing her lips in a frenzied kiss that took her breath away.

"**Tease"** he growled, his lips now barely separated from hers. She smiled and reached her arms up so she could feel the muscles on his back.

A hand tugged at Lucretia's trousers, a brass button popped off to roll away as they were forcibly pushed down from her hips. To his delight, the maid had succeeded in dressing Lucretia in one piece of requested clothing after all. One could hardly call them "panties" it was more along the lines of "a small scrap of fabric with some lace attached to it."

A single, long finger pressed itself against the growing dampness through the snippet of fabric. Lucretia made a small whimpering sound; there was a near desperate _need _Reaver was forcing to build up in her lower abdomen.

Almost a whisper, her cheeks now flaming, Lucretia muttered **"Reaver… Please…"**

Reaver pressed slightly harder, only amplifying her craving**. "Do speak up, I can't hear you."** His finger leisurely began to rub a small circle on the increasingly wet spot.

"**I… I want you to-"** before she could even finish her request, that finger had slipped under that scarp of fabric, and slid into her sex. She couldn't hold back the moans his digit was stirring up in her very core. Soon, it felt like her innards were beginning to tie themselves into a kind of knot, that a burning pressure was building.

"**See? All you have to do is ask." **A second finger joined the first, and Lucretia arched her back from the waves of pleasure that immediately followed. She dug her nails into Reaver's back, not breaking the skin, but leaving divots. He was going to drive her insane if he kept this.

Then, just before she was about to tip over the edge, his fingers left her warmth. Reaver raised his hand to lap up the juices that now graced his finger. Seeing the need in Lucretia's gray eyes he snickered **"Mm… A bit salty. Remember, all you need to do is-"**

"**Fuck me." **

For a moment he simply stared at her, well at least she was being direct.** "Gladly." **

In a flurry of cloth, both shed their final articles of clothing. Reaver examined the smooth body splayed out under him; he'd fully explore it later tonight for sure. Was that a little tattoo he spied? Well it could wait a bit longer. *

"**But first…"** Reaver growled, voice low and hungry. **"You have to do something for me."**

Lucretia nodded eagerly, lost beneath his body, his hard, strong hand taking one of hers and sliding down his body. Over his chest, down his (deliciously sculpted) abs, over the "V" of his hips...lower...

She gasped as he guided himself into her hand. She gripped it, firmly, feeling the warmth, the frenzied rush of blood through the shaft, the supple exterior and the firm, rock-solid core beneath.

Despite herself, and the distracting (though incredibly pleasant) pressure building inside her, Lucretia whistled, impressed. Reaver's cock was long, strong, and clean, and if the way he'd whipped her into a frenzy was any indication, he knew exactly how to use it.

She squeezed it again, looking up at him. **"What do you want me to do?" **

Reaver grinned, a predatory gleam in his gray eyes. **"Open wide…"** He lifted himself over her, sliding higher on the bed. To his delight, Lucretia obediently slide down the mattress, positioned herself beneath his groin, and pulled him into her mouth.

Despite himself, Reaver moaned. **"My, my...you are good at this."** He shuddered again as she swirled her tongue around the tip, buried in the back of her mouth. **"Very good."** Not the best he had ever experienced (that prize belonged to a courtesan in Samarkand), but it was certainly up there. Lucretia devoured him, pulling her head forward to take more of him with wild abandon, sliding her hand over the rest of the shaft. Her other hand was buried deep between her legs, working two fingers in and out of her soaking, dripping folds. From her moans (which had the extremely pleasant side effect of making the contents of her mouth vibrate) she was close. Reaver shook his head. That won't do.

He lifted his body up, pulling out of her mouth with a pop. Lucretia whimpered, pouting, but she only had a second or two to complain before he jammed his mouth on hers. **"Salty,"** he muttered, breathing hard.

"**Fuck me…"** Lucretia softly begged. Reaver's hands were all over her, touching her everywhere. Brushing over her shoulders and back, squeezing her breasts, twisting her nipples. Heat and liquid dripped from her open sex. Reaver smirked, sliding his shaft on the skin of her lower belly.

"**Say the magic word…"** he teased, tweaking her nose-then both her nipples. She whined and gritted her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut, tight.

After another ripple of pleasure passed, she gasped **"Please!"** between two fast, shuddering breaths.

"**See?"** he chuckled, lowering his hips. **"All you had to do was ask."** And with that, he sank into her, entering with one long, slow stroke. Lucretia gasped, eyes rolling. Her fingernails dug into his back again, this time splitting the skin. Reaver yelped but grinned, moving in and out slowly, rolling his hips. Her eyelids fluttered and her mouth managed to as he thrust. Somewhere, in the back of Lucretia's mind where she was still conscious, she could hardly believe this was happening. Reaver was a creepy, overconfident pervert, she was going to be working for him soon, she-oh, God, she felt good.

Lucretia gasped and moaned, wrapping her legs around Reaver's tight, strong ass, pulling him deeper into her. She could feel every ridge and every vein, every hot rush of blood inside him-and in turn, inside her. Hot, hard, and fast, he thrust into her, ravaging her body. Animalistic growls came from his mouth just inches above her head, interrupted only when she pressed her lips to his. Heat radiated from her abdomen, growing rapidly, rushing through her body. Lucretia screamed as she orgasmed, riding the waves, arms wrapping around Reaver's hard shoulders and pulling him to her. He bit her neck again and again as she climaxed, the pain driving a spike through her brain and ratcheting the pleasure to another level entirely. She held onto him for a long time, shuddering, then she collapsed.

Reaver graced her with a few slow, delicate strokes, then pulled out. She sighed at the empty feeling he left behind, the void that he'd filled only moments ago. Cold air rushed over her entrance as he stood, a tinge of sadness coloring her orgasmic afterglow. It was immediately brushed away as he lifted her limp body like a ragdoll and pushed her, front-first, against the headboard. Lucretia grinned, then yelped as he slapped her ass.

Then, suddenly, he was pressed against her, biting her shoulder and reaching around to clamp his hands into her breasts**. "Ready for round two, Miss Nuygen?"** he hissed, breath hot and heavy in her ear.

She tilted her head to look at him, beaming. **"You know I am. I-Oh yes..."** Before she could say any more, he'd kicked her ankles apart and slid inside, pounding furiously. Her body knocked against the headboard helpless against the sexual avalanche that was Reaver.

He grabbed every inch of her as they fucked (or, more accurately, he fucked her. She was just along for the ride), squeezing her hips, furiously spanking her ass, whipping her around to ravage her breasts with his mouth before hurling her on the bed and taking her from behind.

Lucretia could barely see, let alone keep her breath, as he slammed into her. She lost track of her orgasms, and somewhere in the haze of lust and sexual power Reaver had exploded into her mouth. But he never wasted a second, and neither did she. They grabbed at each other, her beneath him, between him and a wall, pressed against the floor, until finally, finally, they were sated.

Reaver and Lucretia collapsed on the bed, side by side. They were naked, panting, and gleaming with a thin sheen of sweat. Lucretia's short hair stuck to her head, matted and tangled. Liquid covered their bodies, both from themselves and each other. Thin streams of blood ran down both their backs, where their partner had clawed them in wild ecstasy, red marks standing out on pale skin noting where bruises would be tomorrow.

Lucretia let out an elated, exhausted laugh, breasts shaking. Her face flushed as she watched Reaver stretch languidly, feline, like a cat. A second later, he yawned and fell asleep. She watched him breathe for a moment, a lazy, satisfied smile stretching her lips before she too passed out, sore and exhausted, the heat between her thighs finally cooling.* Lucretia sleepily snuggled up to Reaver's sculpted chest. The rush from climaxing over and over was fading, leaving a soft warm glow behind. The hunger Reaver had sparked in her was now sated, and it felt wonderful.

**Author's Note! #lemonyupdate**

Well some of you may have noticed that the time-skip is gone! And while I would adore to take credit for that steamy-steamy piece of writing, I cannot. It was done by my good friend Eric Shriver, AKA NSFWilhelm on Reddit. He is beyond awesome for writing this for me, and my thanks goes out to him for writing my request. Go give his other writings some love, you can find him as Eric Shriver on Word Press! Be warned, his stories are all in the same vein (So smut), but if you liked what was written here, go check him out! He wrote everything between the asterisks, so again, Thank you Eric. Thank you very, very much.


	5. Darkness Rises When Silence Dies

Lucretia drifted into a deep sleep, she was fully worn out thanks to Reaver's efforts. Then she began to dream.

_Her boots tapped loudly on the stone floor, Lucretia was in a narrow hallway and she had to get to the end. She just had to. A sudden sense of urgency shot through her, and she started to run. Something bad was going to happen, she had to fix something. Whatever source of light that had been illuminating the already dim hallway faded even further, leaving Lucretia in the darkness alone. She reached out a hand, so she could feel her way down the hallway, but she hadn't taken two steps when the wall disappeared. Before, the air had been a bit damp, and slightly chilled. Now, it was like stepping into a freezer. She shuddered at the sudden cold, but kept walking. She knew that she was in a room of some sort, she could hear the way her steps echoed off the walls._

_A quiet voice, one that sent a wave of dread washing over her whispered __**"Stop."**__ So she did._

_Lucretia must have been near the center of the room now, shivering from the temperature, and suddenly fear. Several sets of red lights suddenly bloomed into existence, somehow, Lucretia was aware that these were eyes. Her body suddenly not in her own control anymore, she bent at the waist in a respectful bow._

_After clearing her throat, she felt her mouth open and say "__**What do you ask of me?"**__ every fiber of her body was screaming for her to run away as fast as she could. But she remained standing there, back straight, eyes focused on the red lights. A dim light sputtered to life, illuminating the room. All of the darkness faded, save for the figures that were now easy to see. The source of light was Reaver, holding a small candle. He didn't look how he normally did, in his white coat and top hat, he was rather in a simpler brown outfit, and was noticeably lacking any makeup. He simply stood besides Lucretia, not even sparing a glance in her direction. It was a bit disquieting but not as worrisome as the shadowy figures that now stood before the two humans. _

_Humanoid in form, they chuckled. A cold sweat broke out on Lucretia's back. On the scale of creepy from one to ten, this was a twenty._

"_**Only that you create all that you know, give your knowledge of weapons from your world to the King, the Rebels, whoever really, as long as you do the job that we brought you here for. And of course, as standard, that you bring a gift to us once a year. Ask Reaver about the details, he'll know."**__ The shadows sniggered, as if they had just told the joke of the century. Reaver just continued to stare at the creatures his face faintly showing confusion. _

"_**Reaver will take you to us. Keep you close, safe until then. Right Reaver?"**__ A look of pure terror illuminated his face, and then Reaver winked out of existence, not even leaving his candle behind. _

_One approached her, and then pressed a large brass signet ring into her hand._

"_**We gave you life when death was your fate. Now, repay us, The Shadow Council, a favor."**__ The shadow that was standing directly in front of her pressed an ice cold finger to her forehead_.

Lucretia's gray eyes snapped open, only to find that she was on the business end of Reaver's gun, the barrel resting where the shadow had touched her. He looked beyond furious, dark eyes flashing with vehemence. She was lying on his bed still; he on the other hand was standing by the bed in all of his nude glory.

"**Er, Reaver, what are you doing?"** fear colored her voice. It was like waking up from one nightmare and straight into another. She slowly pulled herself into a sitting position, his gun never leaving her forehead.

"**Tell me what you know about The Council."** His voice was deathly serious, she heard a click as he cocked the gun. **"Now."**

"**I- I know nothing! If that was them contacting me then…" **tears were starting for mist her eyes over. That dream had felt so incredibly real, it had sent her emotions into nothing less than turmoil. It suddenly occurred to her that if he decided to pull the trigger, that no one would truly care. No one would miss her. No one would try to bring him to justice. The loneliness of a person who had been ripped away from their world and pushed into a new one slammed into her, and a tear messily ran down her face. This was a very depressing insight to gain while at the end of a gun. She took a deep breath, and screwed her eyes shut, ready to feel one final jolt of pain before she crossed over into whatever after life awaited her.

The cold metal of his gun suddenly left her forehead. Tentatively, she peeked out through her tears. Reaver still had his gun trained on her, and was now sitting (still nude) in a chair. His hair was somehow still perfect, although his normally carefully made-up face was now clean of makeup. It had all been sweated off the night before, and privately Lucretia thought that he looked much better without his cosmetics. He looked… More alive, more genuine, more human. Those would be points dwelt on later, right now there was still a gun trained on her.

"**Really? You've never seen them before?" **His voice clearly showed his suspicion of her, and his eyes were roving over her body again, although for once not out of lust. He was trying to figure out how much of a threat she was.

"**Yes!" **She went to slip out of bed, but when she attempted to stand she realized that A) last night with Reaver had resulted in her being covered in bruises and hickies, B) had also resulted in some significant soreness and C) her legs currently had the functional capacity of limp noodles. The first and second ones weren't really a problem, she had _kinda_ asked for it after all. The third one however, resulted in her attempt at standing failing miserably and her tumbling onto the floor with a small yelp, pulling some of the sheets with her.

A brass signet ring tumbled down from the sheets, hitting the floor with a sharp **"Ping!"** then rolling to Reaver's feet. He naturally reached down and picked it up, he turned the little object over, it wasn't a particularly fine piece of jewelry, judging by the band, but when he saw the symbol embossed in the flat, dark stone set into the ring, he paled. Not even his thick makeup could manufacture such pallor. He knew that symbol, it was impossible for him to forget.

"**Wha-" **Reaver lowered his gun slowly, whether it was out of shock or for some other reason, the result was the same. His words failed him for a moment. This was not a symbol he particularly fond of after all, a larger version was embossed on the seal he used to sacrifice a person every year, in return for another year of life. It had been several centuries already, but the Shadow Council still was a source of trepidation for him. Whatever they were, they had the power to give eternal youth, but they were certainly not benevolent. They had destroyed his hometown, killed everyone in it, and razed every familiar structure to the ground. They had taken away his one love, his home, and he had received a way to stay young forever.

Fair trade? It depended on who you ask.

Lucretia had given up trying to stand and instead settled for sitting on the floor, sheets wrapped around her. When she was what was in Reaver's hands her eyes widened. For a moment they both sat there in silence, staring at the cold piece of brass and onyx. Then Lucretia spoke up, wonder and fear twisting her voice so it sounded like it came from a girl, rather than a young woman.

"**So I guess that wasn't a normal dream after all then…" **For the next several minutes, Lucretia quietly relayed her dream, making sure to not leave out a detail. By the end, despite her best efforts, a few tears had rolled off her cheeks and gently pattered onto the floor. Lucretia looked completely disheveled, her bangs a complete mess, the rest of her hair sticking up in odd places. It didn't help that her body was significantly marked from Reaver's touches (and bites and kisses) from last night either. And now she was crying, why she had no idea, but tears were falling softly.

Reaver simply stared at the symbol inscribed on the ring, not even nodding to acknowledge any of it. For once, his face was completely blank. No smugness, no anger, no desire. Just… Nothing. Then he stood up, walked over to where Lucretia was sitting on the floor, and slipped the heave ring onto her right index finger.

"**This is yours now then." **He stated, still seemingly void of emotion.

Reaver wordlessly helped her up, wrapped a robe around her, then handed her off to a maid. The maid had looked curiously at the two of them, not surprised that Reaver was walking around in the buff, but was curious to why he looked so serious so early in the morning, however, the maid did the smart thing and held her tongue.

Just before the maid escorted Lucretia out of the room, Reaver ordered, finally in his normal tone of voice. **"Get her cleaned up then send her to my office. Take your time." **The maid nodded and soon had Lucretia (with assistance to stay up-right) out of the room and into a spacious bathroom to tidy her up.

He then sat back down on his chair, face in his hands. The Shadow Council contacting them like that was a first for him as well, and if this was a sign that their powers were already growing without Lucretia fulfilling her given task, then he didn't want to know what they would be able to do if she did complete it.

He could kill her, but then the Council would be furious, and probably kill him. At least. The world would be saved, yes, but what was the point of a world if he wasn't there to grace its presence? He called for the strongest drink he had sitting in his cellar to be sent up to his office, and then went off to get cleaned up himself. He and Lucretia had a serious conversation coming up.

**Author's note:**

**Well lookit that, plot! I never played Fable 2 so I actually have no idea how the shadow Council acts, I just kinda guessed based on the wiki page. So, feedback is much appreciated! MUCH appreciated. Please… Tell me how you think I'm doing. I love you all dearly, particularly Oblivion Child for helping me square away a bit of character creation for our favorite butler. **

**No not Sebastian Michaelis! (Although expect at least a one-shot for Black Butler in the next two week!) **

**Teehee, Well until next time! **


End file.
